


Your Demons and All the Non-believers

by nyagosstar



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 11:32:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13145787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyagosstar/pseuds/nyagosstar
Summary: Being Prime Minister is harder than Roy expected and it's not made any easier when Ed takes on a student who thoroughly disproves of him.





	Your Demons and All the Non-believers

**Author's Note:**

> Happy December 25th, I guess? I started this when I was stuck in a well of not being able to write anything and it's taken me ages to finish. I haven't written FMA in ages, but the idea sort of hit me and I wanted to see where it went. I still love them all desperately and hope you enjoy the read. 
> 
> (You know you've been out of the fandom for a long time when you have to look up how cities are spelled.)

Gerald interrupted them with a polite cough. “Sir, there’s a girl at the door.”

Ed laughed and shot a sharp look in Roy’s direction. “Your illegitimate love child finally show up?”

Roy sipped at his coffee and didn’t answer. Ed’s asides hardly ever required his participation. “Gerald?”

Another polite cough. “She’s here for you, sir.” He nodded at Ed who flushed to the very roots of his hair in the most charming sight Roy had seen all morning.

Roy didn’t bother to hide his smile at all. “Something you’d care to share with me, my love?”

“Shut the fuck up. I didn’t, I haven’t-” he shoved back from the table. “Where’s this kid? Aren’t we supposed to have security around this place? What the fuck is the point in living in a goddamn museum if just any fucking five-year-old can wander up to the door?”

“Unusual that you would pick such a specific age, my dear.” Ed twitched at the endearment as he stalked toward the door. “Weren’t you in Creta five or six years ago?”

“Fuck off.”

Roy set down his cup and followed Ed out of the breakfast room, down the stairs, and to the sitting room off the main entrance. Despite his teasing, Roy stayed alert. It wouldn’t have been the first time someone tried to use a child to get to them.

Ed shoved the door open, the line of his shoulders tight and tense, and stopped. Roy peered over Ed’s shoulder to find a girl, not a child, perhaps thirteen. She was standing at the window, her hands curled into fists and her mouth pressed into a tight, worried line. 

“I don’t know you.” Ed crossed his arms over his chest. Where Roy might have started with a diplomatic question-have we met, are you the daughter of a friend-Ed had both a striking memory for faces and bluntness.

“Mrs. Curtis sent me.” She dug into her pocket and pulled out a letter. Her eyes darted from Ed to Roy and she flinched a little. Then she took a breath and closed the distance to hand off the letter before retreating to the window.

“Teacher?” Ed muttered as he tore into the envelope and scanned the letter. “I hate to break it to you, kid, but I’m not an alchemist anymore. If you want a teacher, you’d be better off with my brother.”

Her mouth turned down. “I don’t want anyone else.”

Something in the letter must have touched him, because Ed folded it in half with a set of sharp motions. “Yeah. Okay, let’s talk.” He glanced at Roy. “Go fuck off and run the country or something.”

Not to be denied in his own home, Roy leaned in and pressed a kiss to Ed’s temple, breathing in his scent, hoping to make it last through the day. It was never enough, could never be enough, but he always tried. “Call me if you need me.”

His morning was taken up with meetings and briefings, a long phone call with one of his generals in the east who was worried about the potential for unrest. He missed lunch, worked through the afternoon and only left his office when Hughes came in to kick him out.

“No one goes home until you go home, Roy. I want to see my family.”

Roy stood, stretching and feeling the ache of sitting all day. “I don’t ask you to stay.”

Hughes rolled his eyes. “You don’t have to ask.” He looked tired and Roy felt more than a twinge of guilt in asking so much of him, when he’s so nearly given up his life for their cause. “There’s a car waiting for you.”

“You want a ride?” The Hughes’ home was a little out of the way, but since he wasn’t the one driving, it didn’t matter much. And he liked the opportunity to break down the events of the day during the quiet drive, when Hughes was more like his friend and less like his Chief of Staff and Intelligence Advisor.

As always, Hughes had _opinions_ about what everything, including what he thought Roy should do about the brewing trouble in the East. “I know you don’t like to travel, but I think the only thing that’s going to calm things down is for you to make an appearance. Let the people know you hear them.” 

He was right, because of course Hughes was right. It was just that since Roy became Prime Minister, traveling had turned into a pain. There was an itinerary to stick to, with every moment logged and counted so there was no extra time to drop in on an old favorite restaurant or friend. His security was doubled so that he ended up feeling like he couldn’t breathe without permission. And he’d never been able to convince Ed to join him. “Remind me to make plans for a visit,” he sighed, looking out the window at the darkening streets. The tall, uniform buildings of Central’s center slowly gave way to less tidy and sprawling neighborhoods until the Hughes family home came into sight. 

“Give my apologies to Gracia and the girls for keeping you.”

Hughes laughed it off, as if his daughters were not waiting anxiously in the window for their father to return. And then Roy was alone in the car. Or as alone as he tended to get most days. His drivers knew better than to try and engage him in conversation at the end of the day. In the morning, for afternoon rides, he was free with his comments and enjoyed the talk to make the miles go faster. But in the evenings, it was all just a little too much to keep up the interest.

It wasn’t until he was through the main doors and into the informal dining room that Roy remembered their guest from the morning. She and Ed were seated at the table, Gerald was just setting down plates with dinner.

Roy didn’t bother to change, just took off his jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. It was a look he knew Ed particularly liked and the lines of stress around Ed’s eyes told Roy it had been something of a day. 

“Talia’s going to be staying with us for a while.” Ed said, between bites. “I set her up in the Blue Room so you’re going to have to remember to put on clothes before you go wandering around in the morning.”

He couldn't stop the laugh at Ed’s words or Talia’s flush. “I’ll keep that in mind. So, you’ll be teaching then?” Roy was privately pleased. He’d always thought Ed would make a fantastic teacher if he could find a student who could handle his severe dedication and occasional mood swings.

“She made a good case.” There was more there, underneath, but Roy was patient enough to wait until they were alone to get the full story. 

Talia didn’t say a word to him throughout the entire meal. They passed the evening in the main study, Roy reading through briefing notes and dossiers, Ed and Talia in soft conversation about her plan of study. Ed piled an impressive number of books in front of her-mostly alchemy with some history and natural science mixed in. She listened intently, spoke rarely, and ignored Roy entirely.

When he bid her goodnight, she scowled at him.

“Her family died. Mom, dad, and a sister.” Ed was sitting patiently on the bed, allowing Roy the rare joy of brushing out his hair. “Her mom was an alchemist, she was already learning. Teacher,” he sighed, full bodied, nearly collapsing his entire being with it. “She’s good enough already to learn on her own. If someone doesn’t take her, Teacher’s pretty sure she’d give it a try. And we all know how that ends.”

“So why you and not Alphonse?” He paused, running the brush through Ed’s thick hair and tried to think of the most diplomatic way to state his case. “Of the two of you he has more patience.”

Despite his careful tone, it still earned him an elbow to the ribs. “I’m plenty fucking patient. No. Teacher thinks it’ll be good for me or something. Al’s mostly worked through his shit about what we did. He figures losing his body, years spent in armor were punishment enough. And you know. I’m the older brother. He might have gone along, but ultimately, it was me pushing us forward. I was the one who ignored the warnings, so fucking sure I knew better than hundreds of years of research and lore.” His tone was light, but there was a brewing sense of anger just below the words. Directly mostly inward, Roy knew, but also at the world in general. 

Roy set the brush aside in favor of running his fingers through Ed’s hair, basking in the soft strands. He loved the heavy weight near the end and the warmth near Ed’s skull. “I don’t think she likes me much.”

Ed snorted. “That’s cause she’s got good sense.” He turned and pushed Roy back on the bed. “Knows a predator when she sees one.”

Roy leaned up into a kiss, feeling Ed’s lingering smile against his own lips. “Only I seem to be the one who’s caught.”

“You’re so fucking smooth.” Ed kissed him again and Roy was more than happy to let his husband have his way.

*

Talia was waiting for them when they went down for breakfast the next morning. Clean, dressed, a plate in front of her that remained untouched until they sat at the table.

“You don’t have to wait, if you’re hungry. Gerald wouldn’t bring it to you if you were meant to wait.” Roy addressed her directly for the first time and it was like he spoke to the chair itself for as much as she acknowledged him.

“Eat,” Ed said as he poured himself a cup of coffee before handing off the carafe to Roy.

Only then did Talia pick up her fork to dig in to her breakfast.

Roy sighed and sipped at his coffee while he waited for his own breakfast. “Hughes thinks I’ll need to make a trip out east. I don’t suppose I could convince you to accompany me?” He nodded his thanks to Gerald when he set Roy’s breakfast in front of him. “I’m sure Alphonse would be happy to see you.”

“I’ll think about it.” Ed squinted at him. “You think there’ll be trouble?”

“Could be.” Keeping secrets had become almost second nature to Roy at that point in his life. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to share the specifics with Ed, it was that Ed had been very clear he didn’t want to know details unless he asked. 

After Roy had been elected as Prime Minister, after they moved into the house, they’d spent an evening curled up with each other, knowing that it might be ages before they’d get the chance to be so selfish again. 

“I know,” Ed had drawn a breath and looked _pained_ with it. “I know you’re going to have to do stuff and make decisions that suck. I get it. You’ve got to think of the whole country. It’s your job and I get it, but I can’t help being.” It seemed like he was stuck, so Roy waited him out, let him collect himself. “I don’t want to know, okay. You can talk about your day, but don’t give me the details. I don’t want to know that you had to flood a town to save a reservoir or that you’re sending troops out west to deal with a civil uprising. Cause I can only think of the people, you know? And I don’t want to spend the next how ever many years pissed at you because you’re doing your job.”

So, Roy did his best to honor Ed’s request because there was hardly anything he wouldn't do for Edward. Hardly anything he would deny him when asked outright. 

Ed frowned thoughtfully at his breakfast. “Might be a good idea. Al keeps promising to come out, but something always comes up. And it’d be good for you to see some alchemy first had, not just talk about theory.” He addressed the last to Talia who was trying very hard to look like she wasn't listening. “When do you figure?”

“Not for a few weeks. You know how they like to fuss.”

“I don’t know that I’d call your security detail fussy. Ruthlessly pragmatic, just the way I like them.” He pushed his uneaten toast onto Talia’s cleared plate. Since he stopped eating for two, and since he’d passed his last growth spurt, Ed was less likely to eat like he’d never seen food. Roy, at times, found he missed it.

They chatted about plans for the East, people they might like to put on the official itinerary, museums and landmarks it might be nice for Talia to see. She only spoke when Ed addressed her directly, but the way she watched them both, Roy was certain she could recite their entire conversation with little trouble.

When he finished his second cup of coffee, Roy pushed back from his seat and moved around the table to collect a kiss from Edward. “I have a late meeting with the ambassador from Creta, so you’ll be on your own for dinner. The two of you should go out.”

Ed reached up to straighten Roy’s tie. “You don’t tell me what to do.”

Roy kissed him again because he could. “That’s right. Have a good day, my love.” He nodded to their silent breakfast companion. “Talia.” And left. 

His day was full, because his days were always full. Reports and meetings, briefings and paperwork. He spent an hour on the phone with a general in the south about enlistment numbers and how the steady decline in military would surely spell the end of Amestris. Roy hummed in all the right places as he drew little doodles on a piece of scrap paper. 

The truth was: Roy didn’t care that the generals were irritated with the decrease in military spending. They were years out from the Promised Day, years of scaling back the military’s hold on Amestris and they were still the most militarized of any of their neighbors. 

“Thank you for your time, General. I’ll certainly bring it up with Parliament.”

He had a late lunch with Hughes where they two of them got started on their idealized wish list of the trip out east. Roy knew that at least eighty percent of what he wanted would be trimmed from the itinerary, but it was nice to put together a list of what he wanted to do, instead of slogging through what was expected of him. 

“I hear you have a house guest,” Hughes said around a mouthful of noodles, the list set aside.

Roy hummed and leaned back in his chair. “She hates me. I’m not sure how I managed to offend a teenager, but I’m too afraid to ask. Ed is delighted. He’s got an angry little protege who he can teach to curse at me in five different languages.”

Hughes smiled, but it was a little thin. “She lost her family, Roy.”

“Yes,” he sighed. “But I didn’t have anything to do with it. I checked. It was a car accident on the other side of the country.”

“I’m just saying it’s easy to misplace that kind of anger. Maybe give her a pass on this?”

As if Roy has been terrible to her. As if he didn’t try to include her in conversation. As if he didn’t give up precious time with his husband to her. “I’ve been an absolute fucking paragon.”

“How about you settle for just being nice.”

After his conversation with Hughes—which, god damn it, the man’s words never failed to get under his skin, just burrow in and stay there—Roy made it his mission be the nicest person Talia’d ever met.

It did not go well.

*

“What’s this?” They were the first words spoken directly to him. Roy had been hoping for a ‘thank you’ or just a smile. Not the small sneer and Talia holding the box like it was covered in slime instead of delicate lace.

“A gift.” He paused, and then couldn’t help himself. “It’s something we give to people in our lives to show our appreciation.”

“I know what a gift is. Why are you giving one to me?”

Because I want you to like me. “Because you’re new to the city, and new to the household. I saw it and thought you might like it.”

“I can buy my own things.”

Roy supposed he should have expected as much, but what kid didn’t like getting presents? “No one is saying you can’t. Look, it’s just a gift.”

The door opened and Ed came to save him. “What’s going on?”

Talia tossed the box to Ed. “He tried to give me this.”

Ed shook it a bit, turned it over in his hands. “Roy, why are you terrorizing my student?”

“I didn’t know gift giving was an act of terror.” He crossed his arms over his chest, far too much of a visible tick that he was upset. “Look, it’s just a notebook and a pen set. Alchemists do a lot of writing, and you’ll need to set up your cypher soon. I thought it would be useful.” He spun on his heel and walked out of the room before either one of them could say or do anything. Talia still didn’t look impressed and Roy wasn’t really in the mood for Ed to tell him he was fucking up.

Later, in bed, Ed soothed him with kisses and the smooth stroke of his hand. “What were you thinking?”

“She doesn’t like me.”

“So, what? You thought you could bribe her into it?”

Roy turned his face into the pillow, seeing how the act could have seemed that way. “It wasn’t a bribe.”

“Why do you care if she doesn’t like you. Plenty of people don’t like you. It never bothered you before.” Ed kissed his spine and ran his hand up into the short hairs at the base of Roy’s neck.

“That’s different. She’s living with us. I have a fifty percent approval rating in my own home. That is unacceptable.”

Ed tightened his grip in Roy’s hair, eliciting an entirely involuntary gasp. “You know,” Ed leaned forward to purr in Roy’s ear. “I didn’t like you all that much at that age.”

“I’d prefer not to follow that line of conversation while we’re in this position.”

“Mmmm. What position do you think we’re in?” Ed’s breath was hot against his ear and all thoughts of guests and approval ratings fled.

“Whatever one you want to put me in.”

*

The gift was never mentioned again, though the next morning found Talia at the breakfast table pointedly writing in an old notebook of Ed’s with one of the many ubiquitous pens that collected throughout the house. Roy said nothing, read his paper in silence and absolutely did not feel the least bit offended. 

His days continued to be filled with meetings and strategy sessions. He learned everything he could to speak sensibly on the variety of topics facing Amestris and hired a veritable fucking platoon of people to fill in the gaps. He read until his eyes ached, until he was too tired to take in more information, and then pushed himself to go just a little longer. 

It was hard work, but worth doing. Amestris was still a bit of a mess, but it was less so than when Bradley had been in power, less than when he first took office, but there were still more bad days than good. 

“You’re squinting again.”

Roy looked up from the briefing. “Hmmm?”

Ed was sprawled on the floor near the fireplace, working with Talia on advanced array forms, paper and charcoal spread all around them. He pointed at Roy. “You’re squinting.”

“Headache.” He lifted the brief. “Agriculture is more complex than you’d think.”

“Says the city boy.” He sat up and leaned against the couch, thoughtful. “You ever think it might be your eyes and not the reading material?”

Roy slowly lowered the papers. “Are you saying I’m old?” He could hardly believe it.

“No, dumbass. I’m saying maybe your eyes are bad and if you got glasses your head wouldn’t hurt all the time.” He heaved himself to his feet and moved over to the phone.

He was lost, adrift in a sea of middle age. “What are you doing?” His limbs were too heavy for his body. 

“Calling your night secretary. It’s either that or pin a note to your chest in the morning and this seems more discreet.”

Roy watched as Ed rang through to his office and asked Aaron to find time in the schedule for an eye appointment. How had his life come to this?

“Lots of people wear glasses. Not just old people.” It was the first Talia has spoken directly to him since the gift incident.

A low whine escaped him before he could stop it. “Statistically, though. Statistically, glasses are a sign of advanced age.”

“Don’t be so melodramatic.” Ed hung up the phone and retook his seat on the floor. “You’re still handsome as fuck. There’re people who’d kill to look has as good as you. You’re aging like a goddamn film star.”

“Oh, god, no I’m old. I’m so old, Edward. My eyesight is failing. My knee cracks when I walk up the stairs. My hands ache in the cold.” The brief fell from his weak fingers, spreading papers across the floor but he was too overcome to care. 

Ed sighed. “Can we not have an existential crisis on a Tuesday? You’re eyes probably got fucked because of the whole blind thing. I mean, Marco’s good, but,” he held up a hand and rocked it uncertainly. “Your knee pops because you busted it pushing Hughes out of the way of that car a couple years ago. And your hands ache because fucking Bradley stabbed fucking swords through them. Those aren’t signs of being old, they’re hard earned scars from being a badass.” 

“Swords?” Talia whispered to herself.

Only Ed could make him feel better by swearing so much. “You think so?”

“Yes, you vain thing. Can we please work, now?”

*

His hands had been aching all day and Roy was in something of a mood by the time he got back to the house. It was late. Ed and Talia had already eaten, and the dining room was quiet as Roy sat, still in his uniform for Gerald to bring his dinner. He managed two bites of a thick stew--the kind Ed adored because Gerald was nothing if not prone to play favorites--when Ed found him.

“You’re late.” He sounded curious, not accusatory, but it still set Roy on edge.

“It’s surprisingly time consuming to run a country in between all the whoring.” His teeth clicked on the spoon and he regretted the words almost immediately.

Ed frowned and leaned back from the table. “And in a shitty mood, too. You want me to leave you alone?”

Roy sighed and set his spoon aside. Though he was sure the stew was delicious, he could only taste fire and ash. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s not really an answer.”

“I’d like it if you stayed. I’ll try not to be such an asshole.” He dug his thumb into the palm of his right hand. “Tell me about your day.” I missed you. I missed you so much. 

Ed grabbed his hand and took over the massage. “Oh, you know. Research and shit. Talia’s interested in mineral structures, so we spent a couple hours working on that. The east lawn is a little fucked, but we’ll fix it tomorrow. It’s good practice.”

He pushed his dish away and devoted all of his attention to Ed. The minutia of Ed’s day washed over him, settling some of the sharp edges of his own thoughts. Ed’s fingers stroked the tendons of his hands, dug into the muscles of his palms, and eased some of the ache. If it would just fucking rain.

“You want to tell me about your shit?”

The weight of the day was nearly enough to press him into the ground, bury him under the foundation of the house and into the hot center of the planet. “Do you ever think about what your life would be like if you’d been a farmer instead of an alchemist?”

“Not really. I mean. I think I’d be a pretty fucking bad farmer.” He set Roy’s hand on the table. “You thinking about a career change? Cause I got to tell you, people idealize the shit out of farming, but it’s hard, thankless work.”

“Not really. It’s more likely I’d have ended up working for Chris. It might have been nice to have my own little bar, but you only have to clean up puke on a Friday night once to know whether it’s for you or not.”

“Gross.”

“Yeah.” He closed his eyes and just as quickly opened them, the darkness too present. “It was a hard day.”

“Yeah.”

He can still feel the paper of the reports of the riots in the south at his fingertips. “Sometimes I feel like we’re not getting anywhere at all.”

Ed nudge his leg with the toe of his boot. “That’s just because you see the whole board. It’s a lot easier to see the changes on a smaller scale. Trade’s better. It doesn’t cost us my whole god damn salary to keep us in coffee anymore. But maybe it’s time that you, you know, start thinking that maybe all the things you want to happen, they might have to happen under someone else. Shit takes time.”

It felt like failure. The worst kind of failure. He wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough to make it better all on his own. “I’m going to bed.”

“All right.” Ed stood and pressed a kiss to his temple. “I have the key to the cabinet.”

“I didn’t say I wanted a drink.” It had been his idea. His precaution. And yet the reminder of the restriction clawed at his throat. “I didn’t ask.”

“I’ll be up in a bit.”

Roy waited until the sound of Ed’s footsteps faded, then a few more until the urge to hurl his bowl across the room subsided. He pushed himself to his feet, fighting against the weight of his body and the earth buried over him, and turned to find Talia lurking in the doorway. He didn’t have it in him to face her scorn, or address the curiosity in her gaze. 

“Goodnight,” was all he could manage before he braved the steps and hoped that gravity wouldn’t work too hard against him.

*

“This is,” Ed paused, “ambitious.” 

“It seemed appropriate. If we’re taking the time and trouble to go, we should make it worthwhile.” It was still light outside, still daytime and Roy was home with the itinerary for the trip east. He’d had his scheduling secretary clear him for the afternoon so that he could see Ed in the full light of the sun instead of shadowed in lamplight.

Ed flipped through the pages. “I can’t believe you got them to agree to so many.”

“This is heavily edited. The initial proposal was significantly longer.”

Ed grinned. “Smooth.”

“You can notate which functions you’d like to join, so that security can make arrangements.”

“Yeah,” Ed tossed the file onto the table. “I can think of way better ways to spend the afternoon with you.”

Which was how Roy found himself laid out on his back on the kitchen table, sunlight streaming through the windows, illuminating the golden strands of Ed’s hair and turning him into a glowing figure of ethereal light. Ed whispered the most filthy things in Roy’s ear, his fingers tight on Roy’s hips as he filled Roy, and kissed him, and broke him apart.

“Oh, my god. We eat at that table.”

They paused, embarrassment not enough to separate or dampen their arousal. Ed was thankfully, mostly still clothed and Ed’s body mostly blocked him from view so Talia didn’t have much more than a vague glimpse of their entanglement. He peered around Ed’s side and saw that while she was still in the room, Talia had turned her back to them. Roy closed his eyes in a vain attempt to pretend it wasn't happening.

“Learn to knock, kid.” Ed’s voice was strained and Roy involuntarily clenched down hard, eliciting a delicious little gasp.

“But it’s the middle of the afternoon. And it’s the kitchen.” As if that was all that was wrong with their current situation.

“Yeah, and we’re kind of in the middle of something. Scram.”

Ed nosed at Roy’s pulse point when they were finally alone. “You okay?”

He was pretty sure he was never going to be able to look Talia in the eye again. Actually, he was pretty sure he was going to have to move to Creta. “Yeah. Yeah, keep going.”

They’d both been close before the interruption and it wasn’t long before they were both a sticky, sated mess.

“Well.”

Ed snorted. “Yeah.”

“I don’t suppose we’ll be able to convince her it was just a dream.”

Ed stroked the damp hair from Roy’s temple. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll talk to her. It’ll be fine.” He helped Roy to his feet and shoved his pants at him. “Come on, get decent. We can go upstairs and have a bath. Less opportunities for embarrassment in the privacy of our room.”

The hot, soothing water and Ed’s naked limbs went a long way toward washing away his lingering mortification. Ed was overly solicitous with him, leaving him tucked in bed with a book until it was time for dinner and all of his worries came back.

It didn’t help that Talia kept staring at him when she thought his attention was elsewhere. 

Ed broke the tension by handing over the itinerary. “We’ll stick with you for the couple days. There are a couple of places I’d like to hit in the city and then we’ll catch the morning train out to Risembool. We’ll stay with Al for the rest of the week and head back to meet up with you for your big farewell speech.” 

“Perhaps you can have Winry check your automail while you’re there.” Ed didn’t use it as hard as he once had, but he was older and the weight and wear of the metal leg were more pronounced on his more mature body. 

He snorted. “Yeah, like I could stop her.” Then Ed cleared his throat. “Should probably bring presents for the kids, too. Think you could pick something out?”

A slow, pleased smile snuck across his face. He leaned forward and dropped his chin to his palm. “And why would that be, my love?”

“Shut up.” Ed shoved his fork in his mouth.

“You can say it. You can admit to it. We’re all friends here.” He sipped from his glass. When Ed continued to chew, Roy slid a grin at Talia. “Edward’s niece and nephew don’t appreciate his idea of presents.”

He pushed his food around with his fork, a mulish bent to his lips. “Look at who their mother is, for god’s sake. They should be gearheads. I don’t fucking get it. I would have loved like that shit at their age.” 

“You’re something of a singular entity in all of creation, my dear.” He reached across the table and took Ed’s free hand, bringing it to his lips. Savored the dull blush at the tips of Ed’s ears that had nothing to do with the minor audience and everything to do with the fact that Ed still, after years and years, didn’t know what to do with honest, open affection. “I’ll pick out something age appropriate and you can say it’s from both of us.”

“Fuck that.” Ed took back his hand, but not before swiping his thumb across Roy’s lower lip. “I’m telling them it’s from me and you couldn’t be assed to remember their names.”

“And they’ll still love me best.” Roy turned his attention to the itinerary, Ed’s neat scrawl indicating his plans. “Are you sure you don’t want to just head back here after you’re done in Risembool? That’s a lot of extra hours on the train.”

“Who’s so old he can’t handle a train ride? I used to live on trains. I spent more time on trains than I did on the ground.”

Roy sat back and looked at Ed, took in the slope of his shoulders, the tightness at the corner of his eyes and mouth. The way he flexed the fingers of his right hand. “You’re in a mood. Did something happen?” Early in their relationship, Roy had tried to be tactful about the way he questioned Ed’s moods. He, himself, didn’t particularly appreciate others, even those he cared for, digging into his hurts and he thought Ed might be the same. It turned out, however, that subtlety was lost on Ed and he preferred a more direct approach. So many of their early fights could have been avoided if only it hadn’t taken Roy so long to figure that out.

Ed shrugged. “Same shit, you know? I got a letter from Popular Alchemy, asked for my opinion on a thing, like my opinion means shit to anyone, anymore. And it’s not like I miss it, you know. Cause I don’t. I just don’t like being reminded that the only thing anyone thinks I’m good for is something I can’t do any more.”

Talia’s fork scraped against her plate, the screech achingly loud in the silence that followed Ed’s rant. Her face was turned down toward the table, and her hand was tight enough on her fork that Roy could see the tendons wrought with tension under her skin. “Excuse me.” She dropped the fork next to the plate and all but ran from the room.

“Oh, fuck.” Ed heaved a sigh. “I didn’t mean her.” He glared at Roy. “I told you she should have gone to Al. Al’s great with people.”

As if Roy had had any input on Ed’s decision. “Do you want me to talk to her?”

“Nah, I want to make things better and I’m pretty sure she thinks you’re some kind of fucking demon.” He heaved another sigh and pushed himself to his feet. “Wish me luck.”

“You don’t need it,” Roy lied. 

Moments later he was alone in the small dining room, the remnants of dinner around him. Honestly, Gerald made far better food than they deserved, for as many times as they left dinner half done, between various personal and international crises.

*

“Huh.” Ed stopped in the doorway of the train compartment.

Roy peered over Ed’s shoulder. The compartment didn’t look any different from any of the others he’d been in over the years. “Is something wrong?”

“Apparently being Prime Minister gets you way nicer digs than a dog of the military.”

Roy gave in to the temptation to cop a quick feel of Ed’s firm ass. “I told you that you should have come with me before. It’s not like they’re going to make me sit on a bench for thirteen hours. If nothing else, the security logistics would be a nightmare.”

“And I’m all about keeping the logistics as non-nightmarish as possible. Are you going to go in or are we going to spend the entire trip in the walkway?” Hughes reached over Roy’s shoulder and tapped Ed into movement. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Ed slouched into a seat by the window, the glass reinforced through alchemy to withstand a barrage of bullets. Roy knew because it had happened once. 

They settled quickly and then it was Talia’s turn to hover in the doorway. “Should I go,” she pointed down toward the general passenger section of their car.

“Nope. Ed stays with Roy. You stay with Ed. Keeps everything neat.” Hughes moved over to sit beside Roy, a stack of folders in his hands ready for review. 

They settled in for the ride, Roy and Hughes with their strategy session and Ed and Talia buried under a mound of books. It was almost nice, almost like a family outing instead of a political field trip. 

Lunch time came around and one of the train attendants pushed a cart into their small compartment. Gerald, bless him, had made arrangements for their meals ahead of time, coordinating with the train attendants to provide food that held up well in the travel environment and suited their varied tastes. He made sure Ed had extra protein, Roy got almost delicate soups that helped with his irritable travel stomach. He’d also learned, somewhere along the way, that Talia adored fresh fruit.

After they finished eating, Ed and Talia left the compartment to wander along the train and stretch their legs.

“You three are awfully domestic,” Hughes said, because of course Hughes would have noticed.

Roy shrugged. He wasn’t embarrassed. Talia had managed to slot herself into their life, in a way. “I’d like it better if she didn’t hate me.” 

He hadn’t tried to give Talia any more gifts, but that hadn’t stopped his slow and, if he did say so himself, subtle campaign to win her over. He authorized an increase in their meal budget to make sure Talia had the things she liked. When Roy saw her wearing the same shirt three times in the same week, he casually mentioned to Ed that perhaps a shopping trip was in order. They came back with stacks of new books, some lab equipment, and enough chalk to outfit a school, but when he saw her next, Talia was wearing new clothes that fit her better.

She wouldn't talk to him, wouldn’t look at him most days, but he did what he could to ease her way. He remembered what it was to be young, suddenly without a family and living with people who, while good intentioned, weren’t his. Ed had had Al when they were orphaned. Still a stunning loss, but they’d had another person who knew who they were down to their bones. Roy had spent the first month of his new life with Chris sitting on the back steps of the bar that led to the small concrete patch of dumpsters, listening to unfamiliar voices and _aching_. 

“I don’t know. It doesn’t seem like hate.” Hughes paused and looked at the empty seat across from him, as if she were sitting right there. He was perceptive enough that for him, she was right there. “More like she doesn’t trust you. Or maybe, it’s that she doesn’t know how to trust you. She came to Ed looking for a teacher, so that’s pretty easy to reconcile. And if Izumi Curtis tells you that somebody is good, you’re bound to listen. But then, there’s you. You’re part of the package deal to the ‘having Ed as a teacher’ business and it’s got to be weird. Because you’re an alchemist in your own right, and you’re Ed’s husband, but you’re also the prime minister.”

“Right. Yeah, I get that, but of all the places she could have landed, you have to admit this is a pretty good one. There are shelves of children’s books with this exact plot.” It wasn’t that he thought she should be happy her whole family was gone, but considering where she ended up, her constant suspicion of him was wearing. 

Hughes studied him, his mouth turned down in an unimpressed line. “You’re not exactly fairy tale hero material, Mustang.”

“Fuck you. I’m a delight.”

Hughes shoved another brief into his hands. “Keep telling yourself that.”

*

It was late when they arrived at Eastern Command, but that didn’t stop the full regiment of soldiers awaiting them on the platform and General Lener standing at perfect attention. He fawned at Roy as if he hadn’t once given Roy orders, and led the way to their accommodations.  
Roy, Ed, and Talia had a suite of rooms; two bedrooms split by a living area and a modest kitchen. It was nicer than any place Roy had lived in up until he became prime minister, nicer even that the tidy two-bedroom apartment he’d shared with Ed two blocks down from the rebuilt Central Library. 

Ed made some snarky comment about taxpayers and immediately went off to bed. Talia went to her own room without a word and Roy was left, restless and unable to sleep, seated on the couch by the functioning, if unlit, fireplace. It was past midnight, and he was on his second cup of hot chocolate and the same briefing he’d read a dozen times before when Talia’s door cracked open and she emerged, only to stop, staring at him in surprise.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked, calm and polite. His own sleeplessness was causing a growing pain at the base of his skull, but the one sure way toward relief wouldn’t come. 

“I didn’t think anyone would be up.” She hovered in the doorway, her eyes sweeping the room.

Roy held up his mug. “Would you like some hot chocolate? I was just about to make more,” he lied. 

She hesitated, and Roy was sure she would reject his offer and duck back into her room. To his surprise, she gave a sharp nod and came to sit at the kitchen counter to watch him work.

It was a bit like being a new recruit, having his drill instructor watch him dismantle his weapon and reassemble it under a timer. When he slid the finished cup across the counter, Roy held his breath waiting for the verdict.

“This is good,” Talia said, the surprise evident in her tone. 

Roy took his own sip, congratulating himself on a job well done. “Yes, well, Gerald is a relatively recent addition to my life. I spent a lot of years taking care of myself.”

She squinted at him and Roy wondered if their momentary truce was about to fall apart. As a seasoned diplomat, he should have been better at negotiating terms with a teen. “Ed says the military took care of you.”

He opened his mouth to argue, he distinctly remembered a number of nights spent in a tent in the middle of a terrible desert when the military didn’t give a shit about him, but then imagined she was referring to his life in Central, and in the East, where he got most of his meals from the mess, wore clothes every day that were given to him, lived in apartments paid with a housing allowance. “That’s true, from a certain point of view.”

She frowned at him. “Either something is true or it’s not.”

The hot chocolate was rich and smooth against his tongue as Roy took a sip to give himself a little time before answering. He’d never imagined he’d have to debate philosophy with a teenager in the middle of the night, but considering some of the other things he’d done, it wasn’t the strangest thing to add to his resume. “It’s true that the army provided certain things for me, money, clothing, shelter, meals. But they didn’t give them to me. I worked for them.” He did what they told him because he thought it was right, he thought he was doing something good. It wasn’t until far, far too late that he understood there was no value of good in wartime. 

“Ed says you’re lazy.”

Roy hummed a little. “Ed _calls_ me lazy. It’s a hold over from when we first met. All he saw of my work was me sitting at a desk while he was out running around chasing down leads. It was a different kind of work.” He took a long sip then set the cup aside. “And to be honest. The military I was working for didn’t deserve my full effort. It wasn't working for the benefit of Amestris.”

Talia perked up, but Roy shook his head. It was nice they’d managed a five minute conversation, but he wasn’t willing to discuss treason with a child just to get her to like him. He rubbed his eyes, no closer to sleep, but still restless. If he had been home, he would have gone for a run. But within the confines of a hotel with a full security detail, he didn’t think he’d get past the front door. 

“Why can’t you sleep?” he asked instead.

Any openness in her expression shut down. “Why can’t you?”

It was a fair response. He didn’t imagine that she was probably any more willing to share her demons than he was. Still. She was a child and if she gave him a chance, he just wanted to help. “Lots of things. There’s a treaty with Drachma that’s probably going to fall through which means trouble for Northern Command. There’s general unrest here in the East. Parliament isn’t going to want to pass the proposed budget for next year because of the cuts to the military. My knee aches—probably because of the train ride.” And then there was the real reason. “And the smoke from the train. Not always, but sometimes, it reminds me of other fires. Ones I’d rather forget.” He flexed his hands, the scar tissue pulling against the rest of his skin. He took a sip and met her gaze, steady, relaxed and unpitying. He’d learned that through trial and error facing up against Ed for so many years. Ed, who would shut down at the first hint of pity, or even just the first hint of compassion.

She shrugged and looked down at the murky surface of her drink. “I’d never been on a train until my parents died.” She swallowed hard and Roy kept his face smooth when her gaze darted up to check at the catch in her voice. “Natia loved trains. She had this little set that she used to spread out all over our bedroom and it had these horrible little pieces that she never got all picked up and I’d always step on them first thing in the morning.” Her hand clenched so tight around the handle of the mug Roy thought it might break. “I used to yell at her all the time. I’d tell her I’d break the whole set if she didn’t pick it up and she’d cry and cry until Mom made me apologize.” She rubbed at her face with the back of her hand. “You ever want something so bad, you think you’d do just about anything to make it happen?”

“I don’t think there’s a person alive who hasn’t felt that way at one time or another.” She looked away and Roy knew, _knew_ , it wasn’t a good enough answer. “I was about eight when my parents died.” That was the easy part. The part he’d practiced, over and over, in front of the mirror, standing on a stool in Chris’s cramped bathroom until he could say it without flinching, without his eyes giving away the raw, gaping pain of those words. 

_“If you can’t tell people the truth, tell them a story you can believe,” Chris told him the first time he came home from school empty inside from holding back tears when someone asked why he lived in a bar._

Because it was a version of the truth, but it wasn’t the whole truth. The story of the first gunshot in the middle of the night that bolted him from sleep. Then the stumbling, stomping gait of his father as he called and called and called for Roy to come out of his hiding spot. The anguished weeping. The second shot.

He cleared his throat. “I was eight when my father killed my mother and then shot himself after he couldn’t find me.”

She gasped but he plowed right on.

“You won’t find anything about it in any official record. I buried it all a long time ago. But that’s what happened. I went to live with my Aunt where she ran a bar and kept tabs on all the local gossip. Every day I wanted her back, and every day I wanted him to burn.” There was more, but he couldn’t get the words out of his throat, and he thought he’d said enough to make his point.

“How did you, how do you make it stop hurting?”

The sigh that left him was pulled from the depth of his guts and tore out his throat on exhale. “Time helps, some. Talking about it can help. It’s no good to keep it all inside. But there’s always a little part that will hurt. It’ll just hurt different.” He dumped the dregs of his drink into the sink and rinsed the mug. 

“Ed says you can’t bring people back.”

“He’s right. There’s hundreds of years of evidence to back it up. It can’t be done and to try,” he shook his head. “It only makes things worse.”

“There’s always a first. Everything's impossible until someone gets it right.”

“But the price of getting it wrong is terrible.”

Talia didn’t look entirely convinced, but she looked slightly less desperate and Roy was willing to take that as a win. It was a delicate age, when magic still seemed possible. When miracles still seemed possible. When wishing hard enough might make something come true. “Do you want to listen to the radio with me for a bit? There’s usually some pretty interesting programing on in the middle of the night.”

The settled in the living room, him on the couch, her curled up in the chair by the window and listened to the conspiracy theorists, the profoundly devout, and the trashy late night radio plays until both of their eyes were drooping. He waited to make sure she made it to her room before curling up with Ed, pulling his sleep-lax body close and breathing in his scent until he could sleep. 

*

It was late evening the next day before he had the chance to sit with Ed in some semblance of peace. His morning had been filled with meeting and then a working breakfast, a working lunch and if there was anything that could destroy his appetite, it was trying to iron out the intricacies of government work as it affected real, living people.

He retired early, and Ed followed, tucking himself against Roy’s side and pressing food on him until he ate something, even though he didn’t feel like it. 

“Talia said you had a talk last night.”

Roy hummed and set the plate aside. “Neither one of us could sleep.”

“It was years before you told me that story.”

“Oh,” he said, infusing his voice with his smugness. “How does it feel to be jealous of a teenager.”

Ed shoved at him, but without much force. “Shut up. I’m just surprised, is all.”

She’d been hurting and he couldn’t have left her to the hurt all alone. “You make it easier.” Somehow Ed made everything easier, even when they were fighting, even when they were at odds. His life was better because Ed was in it and it was easier to share the things he’d kept locked away for so long. 

“We’re heading out on the morning train. You’ll be okay by yourself?”

He kissed Ed’s hair, just above his temple. “I’ll hardly be alone. But I will miss you terribly. I always do.”

“You’re so gross,” Ed said without any heat in his voice and he leaned in closer to Roy. He took one of Roy’s hands and began playing with his fingers, running over the joints, smoothing out the scars on the back of his hand. “Stick close to Hughes. Don’t go anywhere on your own.”

The line between Ed’s instincts and his general paranoia was thin. “You think something might happen?”

He shrugged and twined their fingers together. “This place makes me itchy. It’s probably nothing, but don’t take any chances, okay?”

As if Roy had not already lived a life full of danger. As if he hadn’t spent years and years taking care of himself before Edward graced him with his presence. “I’ll be careful.”

There was a tentative tap at the door, hardly anything at all, and if they had been sleeping, or in the middle of a louder conversation, Roy doubted he would have heard it at all. 

“Come in.”

Talia cracked the door just enough to peer through, then edged it open to reveal her face. “How much should I pack for tomorrow?”

Ed waved a hand. “We’ll be back here before we head back to Central, so you don’t have to bring everything. Whatever will make you comfortable for a couple of days.”

She nodded. And lingered. 

“Can’t sleep?” Roy asked when it seemed Ed was content to let her stand in the doorway all night. 

“It’s so loud.”

Roy nodded. It was louder than the estate, certainly. Not any more busy than most everywhere else he lived in Central, but he understood. “Looks like no one can sleep in this,” he tripped over the word family, changed his mind at the last minute. “Place.” He threw off the blankets, grabbed his pillow and gestured toward the door. “Come on. Late night radio slumber party.”

Ed followed with his own pillow and snagged a blanket from the bed. They settled in and within moments Ed was dozing against Roy’s chest—hardly any of Roy’s internal angst was enough to keep him awake at night.

Talia and Roy shared the quiet lull of the late night radio program and Roy did his best not to acknowledge Talia’s intent stare whenever she thought he wasn’t looking.

*

“You look like hell.” Hughes peered at Roy as he slid into the car that would take them to their first destination of the day. Roy had left Ed and Talia still sleeping, dawn barely on its way, and it gutted him just a little that he wasn’t able to speak with Ed. By the time Roy was done with his morning round, the pair would already be bound for Risembool.

“I’m sure the papers will love that.” He pushed at the hair laying over his forehead and wondered if he’d be able to keep the photographers at a decent distance.

Hughes motioned to the driver and they slid smoothly away from the hotel. “Seriously. You look like you haven’t slept in weeks.”

The thing of it was, it wasn’t just the travel. It wasn’t just Talia’s presence in their lives. It wasn’t just the pressure of being the leader of a country still tottering and colt-kneed after a dictatorial reign. Roy was nearing the end of his time in office. Another couple of years and he’d be in the position to turn things over to someone else and hoping they could do a good job. He’d spent so much of his life getting to where he was, working and scheming, he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do once it was over. 

It was a reality that was staring down at him every morning when he woke, every day he came a little closer to retirement. Elections were slated for the end of the following year and he’d have to think seriously about whether he wanted to run, whether he should run. And what the fuck he was going to do when the time came to step away. 

“That’s the look of a man in an existential crisis if I’ve ever seen one.” Hughes threw his arm over Roy’s shoulders. “You know what I find helps with that?”

Roy blamed it on his exhaustion that he asked, “What?” instead of shoving Hughes off. In a clear mental state, he knew better than to encourage him.

“Pictures!” Hughes fanned out a stack of snapshots like a deck of cards. “Look at their beautiful faces. How can you worry about anything when you have perfection in front of you?”

Roy rubbed his eyes, pushing until light flared behind his lids. “Hughes.”

“Oh, did you want to talk about what’s bothering you instead?”

“Can’t we just sit in silence?” Sometimes, he missed the days when he was a colonel, when his team worked in the outer office and the only sound that filled the warm afternoon air was the shuffling of papers and the lazy arc of the small fan in the corner. 

Hughes put away the pictures, but didn’t remove his arm from Roy’s shoulder. “Well, we can discuss your schedule for the day, or we can talk about what’s on your mind, or we can discuss the state dinner with Drachma next month, but I’m afraid we don’t have room in the schedule for silence this morning.”

“I’m just tired. It’s nothing.” Only he felt like he was always tired. He kept thinking that once they solved one last crisis, when the brokered one last peace, Roy could honestly tell people things were looking up when they asked how he was doing. Instead, he felt like they reeled from one disaster to another with no plan, no time to breathe. And he worried that it wouldn’t be enough. That all of the work, all of the worry, all of the fighting wouldn’t be enough. 

No one could have predicted that an entire country would be built around a transmutation circle, and yet it happened. What else could happen that not only would Roy not be able to prevent, but that he wouldn’t even see coming?

“I’ve seen you tired, my friend. I think this is a little more than that.”

What good would it do to talk it through? Hughes would want to fix things when there was nothing to fix. It was only worry about the future, and things that could not be controlled. He could plan and plan and plan, but there was a certain point when he just hand to open his hands and let go and hope. He just hadn’t come to that point yet. “What’s the day look like?”

Hughes, because he was a better man than Roy deserved for a best friend, moved along without much of a pause. “Breakfast with the generals, troop inspections in the afternoon and meeting with the local government the rest of the day.” He handed over a sheet of paper with the itinerary, scheduled down to the minute. “I’m afraid most of your visit here looks the same. There’s some time on Tuesday when we’re supposed to meet up with some old friends, but that’s only if the morning meetings don’t run long.”

Roy sighed. “If you’re trying to make me regret not talking about my feelings, it won’t work.”

“If you say so.”

Somehow, Roy made it through the rest of the drive, and the morning, and the meetings and the day. And the next, and the next. Ed called briefly when he reached Risembool and though Roy wanted to spend more time with him, between their varied schedules, he managed about ten minutes spread over three days. 

Oddly, the phone to the suite did ring about three in the morning, the night before Ed and Talia were due to head back. When Roy picked up, he expected Hughes with some crisis, not the hitched, high breathing of someone trying desperately not to cry.

“Talia?” He hardly believed it was her. Why would she call Roy of all people when Ed was right there? Unless. “Are you okay? Is Ed okay?” He tried to sound calm, but even he could hear the edge of panic in his voice.

“I’m okay. We’re okay. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called. I thought you might be awake and.” She paused. “I shouldn’t have called.”

“Don’t hang up. I was awake. What’s wrong?”

She was silent except for her stifled breaths.

“Trouble sleeping? It should be quieter out there.” He was fond of the slower pace of Ed’s hometown, the quiet that flowed around and through the fields and homes. Roy knew that it held too many painful memories for Ed to want to settle there permanently, but it was a good place to visit. And Al had done a lot to make the space something new, instead of built on the past.

“Everyone here is so nice.” She choked out a sob. “I just want, I just want. I miss them so much.”

And she thought she couldn’t tell Ed that just being with his happy little family was enough to make her miserable. “You can tell him. He’d understand more than just about anyone.”

“No! No. And you can’t tell him either. Promise.”

“Of course. Whatever we discuss can always be just between us.” Sometimes, when they spoke, it felt to Roy that he was holding a tiny, baby bird in his hands, the fluttering heartbeat and wings fragile against his palms. “He wants you to learn, but he also wants you to be happy. You could tell him you’re having a hard time.”

“Then he’d feel bad.” She drew in a noisy, wet breath. “We’re coming back tomorrow anyway.” She sniffed again. “Why can’t you sleep?”

“I’m afraid I’m not much good on my own anymore.” There had been years and years where he couldn’t sleep if there was another person in the house, let alone in his room or bed. When his solitude was the only thing he had for himself that wasn’t ruled by the military. Ed changed that, as he’d changed everything. “It was a long day, and I miss Ed.” He cleared his throat. “And you, too, of course.”

“Really?” her voice was small, instead of the sharp mocking that he expected.

Roy swallowed against the hard and uncomfortable emotion lodged in his throat. “Really. Now, you should try to sleep. You’ve got an early morning.”

“Okay. Thanks.” The phone clicked off.

Roy set his own down gently in the cradle and leaned back on the couch to stare at the ceiling. “What the fuck?” he whispered to himself.

*

“Are you looking forward to Ed’s return?” Hughes asked as they stood at the train platform waiting for the slightly off schedule evening train.

Roy breathed free air like it was his first. “I am. And to getting back to Central.” He wanted his own home, museum-like it may have been. His own bed. A daily schedule that didn’t leave him exhausted and frustrated from doing nothing productive. 

“Don’t let the generals hear you say that. They think we’re having a wonderful time.” Hughes seemed lighter, though, too. Eager to get back to his family was the likely explanation, or perhaps he was looking forward to having Ed there to help wrangle Roy through the day. 

And honestly? Roy was looking forward to having Ed there to do some of the wrangling. There was nothing quite like his blunt approach to pretty much every situation that let Roy see things from a different perspective. Even if he couldn’t take Ed’s suggestions, sometimes it was good to hear that he wasn’t the only one who wanted to knock everything down and start all over again. 

A small cluster of press were at the edge of the platform and they readied their cameras as the train made its final approach. They were back farther than usual. Roy didn’t mind his picture in the papers, and after a number of years, Ed was resigned to it. But with Talia in their ranks, Roy thought she might appreciate some illusion of privacy.

Regular passengers were the first to leave the train and Roy stood, waiting, trying not to bounce on his heels for the first sight of Ed.

And what a sight he was. Golden hair, brown coat. Roy could have picked him out of a crowd of thousands. He had his bag hung over one shoulder and was sharing a comment with Talia as he made his first steps off the train. It was all Roy could do not to run to him, as if he was returning from a three-year absence instead of three days. 

As golden as he was unaware of Roy’s presence, when he spotted then, Ed lit up more. A grin, free and unfettered, split his face and he closed the distance in something slightly more respectable than a run. Between one moment and the next, Ed was in his arms. Roy held him too tightly, he knew it was too tight, but Ed returned the hold with just as much strength.

“I missed you,” he said just as Ed said the same. They shared a laugh, a kiss. When they broke apart, Talia was hovering near Hughes, watching them. Always watching.

“Are you hungry? My schedulers were kind enough to build dinner into my daily plans.”

Ed grunted. “Starving. Al packed sandwiches, but they didn’t last much past noon.”

“He ate most of them,” Talia said with a small grin.

Roy twined his fingers with Ed’s and drew his hand up for a kiss. “Ah, my love. So generous with so many things. But never your food from your brother.”

“I shared.” He pointed to Talia. “See if I—”

“Gun!”

One of Roy’s guards made the call and everything that came after snapped through Roy like a series of Hughes’ photographs. 

One shot.

Ed clapped his hands, then swore when nothing happened. 

Second shot.

Talia yelped as he pushed her and Edward to the ground, covering them with his own body. 

He snapped, calling a wall of fire to break their line of sight. 

Maes shouting to get them in the car. 

Hands on his shoulders, pulling him away from the scene. 

Pulling him away from Ed and Talia.

The sharp, sudden pain in his shoulder. Talia climbing into the car. Ed right behind her.

“Shit. Shit. We need a hospital.” Ed’s hands warm on his face.

“Are you hurt?” It didn’t look like Ed was bleeding. “Talia?” He tried to lean forward and the pain spiked, leaving him dizzy. 

“No, you bastard. I’m fine. You, however, can’t help but pose for a fucking camera.” He shrugged out of his coat and pressed it against Roy’s shoulder.

“Talia’s okay?”

Her small hand slipped into his. “I’m fine.”

He closed his eyes in relief. Ed liked her so much. He hated to think what Ed would say if something happened to her. 

“Hughes?” The worry in Ed’s voice made him want to open his eyes, but it was hard. The adrenaline of the fight was fading, leaving him sick and weak.

“We’re five minutes out.” Maes said something else, something important, but Roy couldn’t make the words focus and he slipped into darkness.

*

When he woke, bright light streamed through the window of his hospital room. He breathed deep, pleased that the pain was distant. 

Ed was at his side, face lined. He sat forward and took Roy’s hand. “Hey there.”

“I feel good.”

He snorted a half laugh. “You’re on some pretty good drugs.”

“Is everyone else okay? Our people?”

“You were the only one hurt. Including the guy with the gun. Hughes’ people got him down without killing him, so we have a trial to look forward to. Looks like he was working alone, and that it wasn’t even personal.” His hand tightened around Roy’s. “Just wanted his picture in the paper.”

“Well, that’s disappointing.”

“I told you to be careful.” There was no anger in Ed’s voice, only worry.

He smoothed his thumb over Ed’s fingers. “I’m all right.”

“Is it a shitty thing to say that I’m really starting to look forward to your retirement?” Ed looked up and away, out the window, where it looked to be a beautiful day. Not as beautiful as the man in front of him, but nice all the same.

“I’d say I’m looking forward to it as well.” He felt like his days of getting shot at should have been behind him. “Hey. I was thinking about Talia.”

Ed brushed some of Roy’s hair back away from his forehead, his touch impossibly, terribly gentle. “Did a lot of thinking under the anesthesia, did you?”

“We should keep her.” He shook his head as the words got tangled. “No. Not keep. Not like she’s a pet. We should ask her if she wants to stay. More than just through training with you.”

“I thought you were worried about your approval rating.”

Roy tried to shrug and found the pain that was hiding behind the medication. When he could breathe again, he used his words. “She needs us. And, and I think we need her.”

“Look to your left.”

Roy did as Ed directed and found Talia, curled into a hospital chair, a blanket draped over her, sleeping. “Oh.”

“Yeah. I’d say everybody was in on this plan way before you.”

Roy sighed as the pull of sleep snuck up on him again. “Maybe it is time to retire.”

Ed tucked the blankets around Roy. “Not quite yet. You’ve still got a little bit to do. But we’ll be here when you’re ready.”


End file.
